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I remember how many words I had to learn after I was born. Lines, phrases, meanings. And I remember how my dad was making fun of me teaching me a different meaning for a word. For example, he taught me that grapes are called “hippopotamus”. I was so proud to know that word, and each time I saw grapes I named them, in my dad’s laughs. He was a child, and he remained that way until the day he died. I look a lot like him, and I am also a child. And I hope to be buried this way.